Chapter 68 : Father and Son (1)
Chapter 68: Father and Son (1)
The Goguryeo campaign to subjugate the Malgal was something that had occurred even in official history. The period roughly matched this time, and so did the reason.
Originally, the Malgal were merely a ‘nuisance’ from Goguryeo’s perspective.
Even if the army were dispatched to deal with them, no matter how one calculated it, it would always result in a deficit, never a surplus.
They knew this too, so they were careful when selecting targets for plunder. At the very least, they never touched anything that came directly from Pyeongyang.
Because the moment they did, forget calculations or anything else—it would turn into a full-blown UFC.
Those bastards pillaged lightly, and for that reason, although they were annoying, Goguryeo never bothered to deploy troops to beat them down while ignoring Silla and Baekje.
But now, the situation had changed.
Goguryeo had gone through a war with the Western Land and was now paying more attention to the northern front. At this point, the Malgal, who could potentially threaten the rear, were by no means a trivial matter.
"Even King Jun’s past failure stemmed from the Malgal."
"If we cannot completely bring the Malgal under our control, our rear will never be stable. We must distinguish between the Malgal who are friendly with Goryeo and those hostile to it, and eliminate the latter."
"Now that we hold hegemony over Liaoxi, it’s time to once again proclaim the resurrection of Goryeo to the surrounding nomads!"
The last point was the most important.
Goryeo had achieved a victory. And not just any victory—it had triumphed over Northern Zhou, the most powerful force in the Western Land that had destroyed Northern Qi.
The pitiful Goguryeo that used to be crushed in every war was no more. Goguryeo was now an undeniable victor.
And what follows a victory? A promotion. Everyone knew that promotions followed victories.
Thanks to the Battle of Baesan, many had already tasted the sweet reward of promotion through merit.
And there were plenty of those who wanted to taste that sweetness even more.
Of course, the Malgal campaign didn’t begin immediately.
"Can’t we just subjugate them since the troops are already gathered in the north?" That’s the kind of thinking one applies to video game characters. In a game like Seed Moai’s Fate, no one complains if you station a scout in one spot for 3000 years, but that’s just data.
People were different. The soldiers, already up in the north, were exhausted, and it was about time they started longing for home.
It was also the farming season. After launching an offensive, it was necessary to allow proper rest.
‘Same goes for me… I miss Boknyeo.’
And so, I returned to Pyeongyang for the first time in nearly two years.
I was a completely different man from the one who had left. When I departed, I was just a minor official, but upon my return, I was a Chief Envoy wearing the blue cap.
Naturally, the first thing I wanted to do was see my family. I longed to see Boknyeo and my son Onan, who was born while I had been away in the north.
But that was a bit difficult.
I took a lap around Pyeongyang holding a banner.
Holding a banner meant I was, for all intents and purposes, the protagonist—at least in a triumphant return.
"Chief Envoy Ondal has returned victorious!"
"He’s not a general though?"
"Why be so picky about it!"
"Fool Ondal! But to his enemies, he’s the god of death!"
Flowers were showered upon us from all directions.
Not only me but even my two attendants and Soyong, who had followed behind us, grinned wide, revealing missing teeth.
"Soyong, you’ll be getting married first, won’t you?"
"Ah, of course. That’s why, Chief Envoy Ondal—could you please lift my hand high just once?"
That was no trouble at all.
I grabbed Soyong’s wrist and raised it up.
"Wowwww!"
"Who is that?"
Even that small gesture drew everyone’s eyes. Soyong grinned brightly.
"Now I just have to choose who to marry."
Just by me holding his hand, Soyong had instantly become a hero.
Now, there would be many who tried to connect with me through Soyong, or those who wanted to bring the "acknowledged by Ondal" envoy into their household.
"I always end up receiving so much from the Chief Envoy."
"You’ve earned every bit of it, haven’t you?"
Just as I was being pelted with flowers—
A commotion broke out among the crowd.
"Move aside, move aside! Yeombu!"
"I said step aside, didn’t I!"
I recognized those voices well.
At their words, the crowd parted with a snap.
And through the opening—
"Ondal!"
As expected, it was Boknyeo.
The moment she saw me, she leapt into the air.
I stretched out my arms and caught her. Being short, her feet dangled in the air.
"Have you been well?"
When I asked, Boknyeo shook her head vigorously.
"How could I be well without you?"
After circling the city of Pyeongyang, we entered Anhak Palace and conducted various ceremonies. It would take another ten years for Jang’an Fortress to be fully completed.
By the time the events ended, it was already evening.
The night sky was murky.
Though it was a full moon night, the sky was filled with clouds, so the moon was barely visible.
But I didn’t mind. Boknyeo was with me.
"Come over here."
Boknyeo smiled slyly and pulled me by the hand.
"Where are we going? I want to see Onan…"
"Onan is probably asleep by now. Mother is taking good care of him."
"Ah, make sure everyone washes their hands well before holding him, and feeds him seaweed soup…"
"Geez, I told you I’ve done it all, didn’t I? Don’t I look healthy? Just come with me already!"
She led the way to a fairly secluded part of Anhak Palace.
"Here we are!"
"This is…?"
"Normally, you can’t come here unless you’re of direct royal blood. But now that you’re an official royal son-in-law… you’re allowed in!"
For something so special, it looked rather plain.
As I hesitated, Boknyeo reached out her hand.
"It should start appearing around now… Wind, blow!"
A moment later, a breeze stirred.
It wasn’t that Boknyeo was actually Zhuge Liang—she had just said “Wind, blow” about fifty times.
Goguryeo-style wind summoning ritual.
"How mysterious."
"Just watch."
At that moment, the wind pushed the clouds aside.
And there, glowing brilliantly in the night sky, was the full moon.
And then—
"Huh…?"
All around the building began to shimmer and glow.
"What is this…?"
"This is the Crystal Palace. King Jangsu built it to honor the Buddha."
The Crystal Palace—I’d heard the name before. According to the marketplace gossip, it was a palace filled with crystal?
But in reality, the Crystal Palace wasn’t overflowing with crystal. That would have been unreasonable.
Instead, at each corner where the moonlight reached, they had embedded handfuls of crystals that glowed softly.
In the dark of night, the sparkling crystals looked like lanterns floating on the surface of a tranquil lake. The limited number of crystals actually added a modest beauty.
Before it, Boknyeo said,
"The court ladies say that if you make a wish on each of these crystals, it’ll come true."
"Hmm. Have you made a wish before?"
"Of course. About…"
She gave a gentle smile.
"Two years ago?"
I couldn’t hold it in and scooped her into my arms. Boknyeo squealed with laughter.
"Mother, I’m back…"
"Shhh!"
My mother’s first word after a long time apart was "Shhh."
"I just got him to sleep. Be careful."
"Is he sleeping?"
"He’ll wake up again soon and start demanding food. I don’t know who he takes after… Come see for yourself. Does this look like a baby who isn’t even a year old?"
With that, she stepped aside gently.
Beyond her, I saw the peacefully sleeping child.
“Small….”
A foolish remark.
At those words, Mother gently patted the child’s head.
“Small, my foot. Babies at this age usually weigh about twelve to thirteen geun, but this one is twenty. Honestly… I wonder who he takes after.”
At her words, I asked,
“Was I like that too?”
“You were the same.”
“Ha….”
How should I put this?
Some people called the great victory at the Battle of Baesan a miracle.
But if you ask me, this tiny lifeform was the real miracle.
“Still, I was so happy when the Grand King personally gave Onan his name.”
Even the people of Gomchon and Beomchon rejoiced. At this point, they were half like my retainers, so they cheered at the birth of my heir.
They sent all kinds of gifts, packing up everything they had, to the point where we had to build an additional bukgyeong (storage) just to keep them all.
“It was a blessing that the house grew larger when you became Chief Envoy… Anyway, now that Boknyeo is here, I should be going.”
“Oh, but you could stay a little longer…”
“That wouldn’t be proper. It’s been a long time since you two have seen each other. I wouldn’t want to intrude without tact.”
After Mother left—
Boknyeo and I looked at the child together.
“Can I touch him?”
“Gently.”
I lightly touched the child’s nose. It was broad and looked quite like mine.
His expression scrunched up, then relaxed again.
Someday, this child will walk, speak, and learn sword and bow from me.
I suddenly felt a longing to live that kind of life. Forget war—just raise my child.
“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?”
“Very.”
Boknyeo’s gaze was fixed on Onan.
Naturally, my eyes followed hers.
As we gazed at the child, perhaps sensing our attention, he slowly opened his eyes.
Those eyes—looked so much like Boknyeo’s.
I imagined the future of this child. The era he would live through would be Goguryeo’s decline.
In his thirties, he would face war with the Sui dynasty. In his sixties, war with the Tang dynasty.
If his son turned out to be On Samun, then he might be defeated by Xue Rengui and taken as a prisoner.
My son…
Is it too late to ask…? Did I send you into too harsh a world?
At that moment—
A twitch.
The child’s hand grasped my finger.
Though it was a faint movement, I froze, as if struck by lightning, from that tiny touch.
“He must recognize his father.”
At Boknyeo’s words, I looked down at the child.
His eyes met mine. He stared at me, blinking slowly.
With just a few blinks, all my worries melted away. I knew what I had to do.
I would make the season this child lives in into spring.
A warm, gentle spring day.
In the spring of 578, while Ondal was spending joyful time with his family after a long absence—
The global order was shifting rapidly.
It began with Tabalgaghan, the Grand Khan of the T’u-chüeh and head of the Asana clan.
“So? You’re saying the advance troops sent by Northern Zhou couldn’t even set foot on Goryeo’s land and were completely destroyed?”
“That’s correct.”
To his right, Asana Seopdo, the third most powerful figure in the T’u-chüeh and overseer of the eastern territories, nodded.
“Northern Zhou’s momentum seems far less impressive than expected. Isn’t it time we support Northern Qi and regain the prestige we once held in Mount Qilian?”
Mount Qilian, also known as the Qilian Mountains, was a region near the Tibetan Plateau.
It had long been valued by nomads as excellent land for raising livestock.
But there was more significance to it.
It was said that the decline of the Xiongnu began when Gwak Geobyung took Mount Qilian from them.
In other words… it was the Jerusalem of nomads, continuing the legacy of the first steppe empire—the Xiongnu.
Just as Islam and Christianity fought countless wars over Jerusalem, powers from the Central Plain and the steppes constantly contested this region.
Tabalgaghan nodded.
“Very well. Send an envoy to Gao Soyi of Northern Qi. Tell them we shall assist them.”
With help from the T’u-chüeh, Northern Qi raised a great army and attacked Northern Zhou.
“The Northern Qi revival forces led by Gao Bonyeong have raided the Henan region.”
“…Hah.”
Yang Jian, dealing with the remnants of Northern Qi, felt a throbbing headache. Their strength had grown excessively.
The reason was obvious.
“Goryeo, those damn bastards.”
He recalled Goryeo’s Jowugwan. Every single one of them wore feathered caps.
“Those feathers must be from the jimsae.”
Jimsae was a poisonous bird from the southern lands that ate venomous insects and snakes with its long legs—its feathers and skin soaked with deadly toxin.
A single touch from jimdok, extracted from the jimsae, could paralyze the entire body.
And now, Goryeo was like that.
They had stirred up Goryeo to seize hegemony, only to be defeated and give the T’u-chüeh an excuse to intervene.
“But… it’s still manageable.”
Though the enemy forces had risen greatly, they had no solid rear base. Dugu Huang had been annihilated, but at least they’d succeeded in crushing half the power in Liaoxi.
Even if Zhuge Liang rose from the dead, he couldn’t sustain a rebellion with just one province.
Their current supplies probably didn’t come from self-sufficiency, but from food swiftly relocated after Northern Qi’s fall and Goryeo’s support.
And the T’u-chüeh?
They had powerful troops, not abundant food. In fact, Northern Qi was likely exhausting itself just trying to provide them with grain, livestock, and women.
It was like a tiny bird feeding a much larger cuckoo.
“And their strategy is full of holes too.”
The T’u-chüeh, with no experience in siege warfare, were useless in taking fortresses.
Even now, though they had reached Henan, they failed to capture any strongholds and merely plundered before retreating.
Had they occupied a fortress to use as a rear base, it would’ve been dangerous. But they had failed in their siege.
As long as the fortresses stood, Northern Zhou’s supply lines were secure. Through their chain of fortresses, they could keep pushing reinforcements.
The only issue was that the enemy had risen right on the doorstep of Liaoxi, and Henan and Huabei, the grain baskets of the Central Plains, were nearby.
But flip that around, and it meant that if Huabei was defended, the enemy would soon collapse on its own.
Naturally, the enemy knew this too, so Northern Qi fiercely pressured Huabei. Especially the T’u-chüeh’s light cavalry—they weren’t to be taken lightly.
But it didn’t matter.
Victory in war wasn’t decided by how many were supplied.
Even if ten of our men died to kill five of the enemy, that was fine.
Even if Northern Zhou lost 100,000, that was just one-fifth of their total. But if Northern Qi lost 100,000, they’d be finished.
So let Northern Zhou die more and Northern Qi kill more. As long as no land was lost, victory would ultimately belong to Northern Zhou.
Such was the undeniable difference in scale.
Yang Jian naturally recalled a famous saying from Han Xin, the great general of the Chu–Han Contention:
"More is better."
Overwhelm them with numbers.
That, perhaps, was the essence of warfare.
He gave the order.
“There is no need for tactics with a large army. If a hundred of them come, crush them with two or three hundred. Not an inch of farmland must fall into rebel hands!”
“Of course, Grand Marshal of All Under Heaven.”
Yang Su, a distant relative of Yang Jian, obeyed. He sent 200 men. If they failed, he beheaded the survivors and sent 400. If they still failed, he killed again and sent 800. He continued until success, and if they took the fortress, he smiled regardless of the losses.
At the same time, Yang Su lavished immense rewards upon the successful and never overlooked even the smallest contribution.
Soldiers, terrified of death, fought with clenched teeth. And after victory, they meticulously reported even trivial deeds to Yang Su in hopes of reward.
Through a balance of brutal punishment and grand reward, Yang Su and Yang Jian steadily pressured the allied forces with wave after wave of human waves.
“And soon, His Majesty shall arrive.”
Yuwen Yong, who had recently crushed Fu Bok’s rebellion at Jungdan Fortress, turned the main army’s direction toward the T’u-chüeh’s steppes.
If Emperor Yuwen Yong’s forces devastated the steppe tribes, even Tabalgaghan, who currently supported Gao Soyi, would be forced to retreat.
However, Yang Jian’s plan did not come to pass.
It was due to news from the capital.
“…His Majesty, en route here, collapsed and is in critical condition. You are ordered to return immediately, Grand Marshal.”
Yuwen Yong’s health had deteriorated. Word was that this time, he might never rise again.